


Inspiration

by translorastyrell (nerddowell)



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 17:23:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22467127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerddowell/pseuds/translorastyrell
Summary: Geralt, if I am to find inspiration at the bottom of a mug of ale every time I try to write, we will burn through what little coin we have even faster.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	Inspiration

**Author's Note:**

> I have literally seen the show all the way through one time and although I am reading the books, I'm only like 20 pages into the first one so if this is shit/way OOC then that's probably why.

_Once upon a time, there was a wolf - white as the moon, with eyes like gold coins and claws sharper than butcher's knives. The wolf was reviled as a monster by even its own kind, a freak of nature. And so the wolf was forced to the fringes of the pack and further, roaming the wilderness in search of prey_

Jaskier looks at his notebook, sucking the end of his quill and scratching out a line. He's drafting the story for a new song, a song he's so far tentatively titling _The Wolf and the Nightingale_ , about his and Geralt's adventures. Geralt himself is sat opposite him in the dingiest, darkest corner of this inn, devouring a bowl of stew with the kind of ravenous appetite befitting his epithet of wolf. As Jaskier looks up at the Witcher, Geralt fixes him with a yellow stare and tears a mouthful of bread from the chunk in his hand, washing it down with a gulp of ale from one of two mugs in front of him.

'More fillingless pie?' he asks, and Jaskier forgives him the allusion to their fight over the djinn because they're friends now after all. (Well, after Jaskier had whacked the all-but-dumb brute over the head with his lute and Geralt had just grunted and growled, 'Feel better now?' Jaskier had felt better, infinitely so, but he still swung again. Geralt had grinned - _grinned_ , flashing those sharp white teeth - and caught his arm. 'Don't push your luck, Jaskier.')

'Glossing over your insolence which, frankly, Geralt, is old by now - you are as lacking as your witch in the creative arts of coming up with new insults, it would seem - I am writing another song to ameliorate both your fame and the amount of coin we can get out of the poor souls in need of your services.'

'I make plenty of coin,' Geralt growls, taking a mouthful of ale from his mug.

'If by 'plenty' you mean 'we bought a single flea-bitten room in a third-rate inn for the first time in six months', yes,' Jaskier says sniffily, 'but you can always stand to make more.'

'I make enough to keep you in silks,' Geralt argues back, going back to his stew. Jaskier glances up at him, an unamused glint in his blue eyes.

'Is that how you put it? Am I your _kept man_ , Geralt? There to warm your bedroll and nothing else?'

Geralt hums, raising dark eyebrows at him, and there's a twitch of amusement in the corners of his lips, damn him. Jaskier huffs and throws a crumpled ball of parchment at him. Geralt laughs and kicks his foot under the table, surprisingly gentle for a man of his size.

'Not _only_ to warm my bedroll,' he says, and Jaskier snorts, a reluctant smile breaking across his face. Geralt pushes the other mug of ale across the table to him.

'Inspiration.'

'Geralt, if I am to find inspiration at the bottom of a mug of ale every time I try to write, we will burn through what little coin we have even faster.'

Geralt shrugs. 'It's either ale for a song about the selkiemore, or upstairs for yet another sonnet about my cock.' His eyes glitter.

Jaskier knows an invitation when he sees one.


End file.
